A Mother's Promise
by EvenstarShine
Summary: Following Kili's death, Tauriel seeks out his mother to return the stone and fulfill his promise. As Tauriel struggles with her own grief and pain, she's surprised with how the dwarves, particularly his mother, receive her. Perhaps there is a future between elves and dwarves after all. Oneshot.


Dawn slowly creeps above the mountains. Pastel streaks of blue, pink, and purple paint the morning sky, emitting a dusty glow over the small village. It isn't fair that he should not be here to see this. Her feet fall softly beneath her, not even the leaves on the path seem to crunch under her weight. The small stone in her hand feels the weight of his whole being; his smile, the warmth in his eyes, the way he once held her, his promise.

A broken promise.

Her heart aches as she approaches the place he once called home. It is as beautiful as he had told her the night of the Feast of Starlight. Built into the mountains, wooden homes enforced by iron beams jut out into the valley. Whispers of smoke from early morning fires puff out of chimneys. His mother would probably only just be waking. She'd get up, dress, and make breakfast for her family, leaving empty plates at their empty chair for when they returned home.

Several tears leak from her green eyes, "This isn't right." She raises her eyes to the sky, "This isn't fair!" She shouts, her voice trembling with an anger and sadness she couldn't quite process.

She rubs her thumb over the smooth stone. "Why did you have to leave me?" she blubbers. There was no one around to see her crumbling. And what did it matter? There was no longer a king to watch her every move, no prince to judge her for whom she loved. And she did love him.

"What business does an elf have in dwarf lands?" questions a gruff voice.

The she-elf rubs her eyes on her sleeve and straightens her posture, dismissing any semblance of emotion ill-fitting to someone brought up in court. Raising her chin to a position that begs authority she introduces herself, "Tauriel. I hail from Mirkwood."

He eyes her suspiciously, as he should, the elves of Mirkwood have much to make up for. "My people call me Dilh." He crosses his arms across his broad chest. For a dwarf, he stands fairly high, almost reaching her shoulders. "You have yet to answer my question. What is your business here?"

Tears threaten to spill over her lashes but she refrains from doing so, forcing them down as she's forced down every other emotion unbecoming of a woman. "I've come to deliver a message on behalf of Thorin Oakenshield and his company."

The man's stern visage falters, his eyes widen. "Thorin?" Again, his eyes narrow. "Thorin doesn't take kindly to elves. He wouldn't bother with them. He'd rather die."

Tauriel cringes. Does she tell him? Here? Now? Tears sting at her eyes. She grips the stone tighter, it's edges cutting into her palm. Dilh seems to notice the pain in her eyes, along with a grave realization. "I refuse to believe it. They cannot be dead."

Several tears escape. Tauriel swallows before speaking, "Not all were slain."

Dilh's eyes blaze fire. His cheeks redden as an onslaught of emotions hit him full force; anger, frustration, grief. One word passes through his bared teeth, "Who?"

"Thorin, and his nephews…Kili and Fili."

His voice wavers, "Both?"

The Silvan elf nods grimly, "I'm sorry."

Dilh covers his eyes with his calloused palms, likely to hide his own tears. She wonders what his relations were to them. A mentor? A friend? Perhaps the entire village cared so deeply for one another, a concept foreign to her. No family had ever claimed her, Legolas was her only friend, Thranduil the man she served without question. All of that changed when she met Kili. He had revealed to her a deeper sort of intimacy, the sort she'd never experienced with anyone. Legolas had always had eyes for her, she saw it in way he stared at her, the way he lusted after her. In Kili, there was no lust, only love. Surely had they been allowed more time, their love would have flourished and seen a generation where mixed relations were accepted. Now she would never know.

"How did they die?"

The question cuts through her like a razor, ripping through flesh and bone as the memories viciously assault her. Watching the blade perforate his abdomen, seeing him fall to his brother's feet. His pale face and blue lips. The image churns her stomach and she fears she'll retch if she doesn't speak quickly. "Orcs!" She blurts out.

Dilh seems taken aback by her answer. He lowers his eyes, his pupils darting across the earth as if he'll find an answer among the grass, "They set out to reclaim the mountain…" he whispers, "that was it."

"I'm so sorry," Tauriel's voice is soft. She knows her apology won't bring them back nor will it make up for the wrongs done against them in the name of Mirkwood. "Please," she begs, "will you escort me to the house of their mother?"

Hesitation flickers across the depths of the dwarf's dark eyes yet he nods. "Follow me."

As they walk on silently, other dwarves who have just made their way out of their homes shoot glares at the elf. Others usher their children inside, afraid of the elf's presence. One bold dwarf even spits in her general direction. She offers little reaction. She knows what wrongs have been committed against the dwarves in Mirkwood's names, some things she herself had been a part of.

Dilh pauses along a fence leading up to a house cut into the mountains. On both sides of its wrought iron frame, tall oak and pine trees tower overhead as if guarding the house. A candle burns in the front window, a light to welcome a mother's children home.

"This is the home of their mother, Dis. I will leave you here."

Tauriel reaches for his arm, "Thank you, Dilh. I pray one day I can rewrite the wrongs done against you and your people."

He nods, "Perhaps one day we'll see a world not governed by greed and malice. Farewell," he hesitates before speaking her name, "Tauriel." Dilh pushes past her and trudges down the path. She watches him disappear into the village before turning to face what lies ahead. She quickly realizes she stands two feet higher than the door and retreats several steps before knocking. Her knuckles scrape against the wood, a dull thud compared to the hammering of her heart. A short dwarf woman opens the door. Tauriel recognizes her as Kili and Fili's mother instantly, she shares the same hazel eyes as Kili and the same long nose as Fili. Her eyes scan her up and down, "My old eyes must be betraying me if there's an elf standing on my doorstep."

Tauriel bows her head, "My name is Tauriel, may I come in?" Her eyes settle on Dis' tired ones, "Please."

The door creaks on its hinges as Dis steps aside. Tauriel nods thankfully and ducks inside. To her surprise, she can extend to her full height once inside thanks to the tall ceilings. "Please, this way." Dis says, motioning for Tauriel to follow.

The Silvan elf does as she's asked and follows her into what appears to be the kitchen. "Sit." Dis pushes two chairs together so Tauriel can fit comfortably. She does and Dis sits opposite of her. "I gather if you're here and not my brother, something must be wrong. Tell me how my sons died."

Tauriel gasps audibly, something she'd earn a lash for had she still been in training, learning how to fit in among royalty. Dis' lack of emotion stuns her into silence. Surely a mother would react more than shear indifference.

Dis notices this and laughs ever so softly, "Don't look so surprised child. Even hundreds of miles away, a mother can sense when her babies are hurt." She breathes deeply as she pulls a locket from the folds of her shirt. The click of the locket shatters Tauriel's soul as she catches a glimpse of Kili's portrait inside. "You knew my sons didn't you?"

Tauriel drops her eyes to the floor for fear she may start crying again. The stone burns a whole in her palm, her heart. "Yes." Before she realizes what she's doing she reaches for Dis' hand. Uncurling the dwarf's calloused fingers, she relinquishes the stone unto her. Dis gasps. "Where did you get this?"

Tauriel swallows the growing lump in her throat, "Kili gave it to me. He told me what it meant. After he died I vowed…" Her breath hitches in her throat as tears fill her eyes, "I promised I'd return it to you." Several tears leak down her pale cheeks. Tauriel rises to her feet, "I should be going now. I'm dreadfully sorry for your loss. I, I, I'll see myself out. I'm sorry for troubling you."

As she makes to leave her heart stops as a rough hand grasps her wrist. "Wait!" exclaims Dis. "Look at me." Once more, Tauriel does as she's asked. Dis' eyes swirl, a torrent of emotions. "You loved my son. You loved Kili."

Tauriel's knees buckle and she falls to the ground, sobbing at his mother's feet. Between sobs she manages to blubber, "Yes." Everything she'd kept in, is spilling out. All of her sadness, grief, and anger. All at the feet of the mother who raised the man she loved. She was pathetic. Thranduil would kick her out like the whimpering pup she was should she have made a scene like this in Mirkwood. Imagine her surprise when Dis' fingers curl into her long locks of fiery red hair, or when she pulls her into her bosom, as one would when consoling a crying child. "Hush, child," she whispers. "My son would not want you to grieve so heavily for him." Tauriel wipes at her swollen eyes and apologizes. "You're right. I am sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for." assures Dis. "I can see why my son would fall for a woman of your character, you're strong." She smiles warmly, "You're caring and wise beyond your years." She crosses the kitchen and rummages through drawers and cabinets before returning with a sack bulging with food and other supplies, "For your return journey."

Tauriel raises her hands in polite refusal, "I musn't."

Dis pushes it into her hands, "I insist." She beckons for the elf to follow her to the front door. Together they walk outside into the fresh morning air. "This was a long journey you didn't have to make, yet you did. Now you must journey home and live out your immortal life."

The she-elf's brow furrows, "I have no home. I was banished for the love I shared with Kili."

"Then build a home and invite those who aren't corrupted by the evils of the world. Grow together, build a community. I know in my heart you made my son happy. I know he'd want you to be. Go. Live." She presses the stone into Tauriel's palm, "Promise me you'll live for him."

Tauriel raises her eyes to the mountains ahead, toward the new and rising dawn. Curling her fingers around the stone she promises, "I will."


End file.
